Hot for Fireman (25 page)

“God save us from heroes,” muttered the man, scribbling more notes.

“Excuse me?”

He looked up from his notepad. “Everyone wants to be a hero. It’s astonishing how far some people will go to be one. Would Ryan Blake have any motivation for wanting to appear as a hero?”

Appear? Motivation?
The words ricocheted around Katie’s head. She longed to rip the man’s glasses off his face and stomp them into the scorched sidewalk. But she held on to her temper.

“He wouldn’t do that. He didn’t have to. He already was a hero. He put out tons of fires when he was on the force.”

“When he
was
on the force?”

Oh Lord. Katie suddenly saw how things might look to a cynical insurance guy who didn’t know Ryan. He’d probably think Ryan had staged the rescue so he could get his job back.

“It’s ridiculous. Why would he put Danielle’s life in danger? He’d never ever do that.”

“Danielle. The little girl? Who is she?”

Katie squeezed her eyes shut. This couldn’t be happening. “Captain Brody’s daughter,” she whispered. “Ryan’s fire chief.”

“So he managed to rescue the fire chief’s daughter. Heroic and convenient.”

“You don’t know Ryan,” she said, desperate. “He would never start a fire. He was terribly injured and could have died.”

“Someone started this fire who knows about fires. We found a can of the same varnish they use at Station 1 on the ladders. There were multiple points of origin. I believe the arsonist’s hope was that the fire would burn hot enough to destroy all traces of the accelerant. Slight miscalculation there.”

“Arsonist?”

“Yes.” The adjustor closed his book and gave her a formal smile. “I’m afraid at this juncture I cannot approve your claim, pending determination of the fire’s origin. If arson is involved, it’s in the hands of the legal system. The fact that your employee, an experienced firefighter, happened to be here when the fire broke out, and happened to rescue the child of his former fire captain in a dramatically heroic fashion, certainly bears serious investigation. And, of course, we’ll have to look into his connection to you, the beneficiary. We will inform you of the results in due course. Good day, Ms. Dane.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

“R
yan.” Did his eyelids flicker, just a tiny bit? Katie tried again. “Ryan.”

Katie sighed. She’d been sitting at his side for the past two hours, holding his hand. She needed someone to talk to, and Ryan seemed to be the only one who would do. Even when he was unconscious, she’d rather talk to him than anyone else.

“Your CAT scans are looking good. The doctors are going to cut off the phenobarbital to wake you up soon. Great news, huh?”

Not that he had much to look forward to when he woke up.
Congratulations on waking up from your coma, Ryan, now you get to face an arson charge!
The thought made her ill. How could she make them understand that the last person on earth who would commit arson was Ryan?

She traced her hand along Ryan’s muscled forearm. He’d done so much to help her. Sure, he’d been kind of bossy in the process, but always with the best intentions. If she told the investigator about all the fires he’d tried to stop, would he believe that Ryan must be innocent? Or would he still claim Ryan was trying to be a hero? Should she tell Bill Feldman about Carson Smith? At least that would lead him away from investigating Ryan. On the other hand, that would mean the end of any chance of her dad getting the insurance money.

She sat up, jostling Ryan’s arm in the process. He made a little sound, a breathy squeak.

“Ryan?” She held her breath. But, still deep in his trance, he made no other sound or movement. “I’m going to start my own investigation,” she told him, whether he could hear her or not. “The only way that claims adjustor will believe you didn’t set that fire is if I find out who did.” She bent to kiss him on his stubble-covered cheek. “I love you.”

Funny how those words were becoming so easy to say.

Outside the hospital, the warm evening enveloped her in a smoggy embrace. Not even a whisper of a breeze moved the eucalyptus trees in the small courtyard. She walked to her car, digging her cell phone out of her purse. So much for her determination never to speak to Carson Smith again.

She started to dial his number, then changed her mind. Maybe it would be better to speak to him in person. She dialed Doug instead.

“Hey, Doug.”

“Hi, Katie.”

“What’s the matter?”

“What do you mean?”

“You sound funny. Are you high?” But she knew it wasn’t that. When Doug was stoned, he got spacey. Right now he sounded nervous.

“No.”

Now he sounded defensive. Oh well. She didn’t have time to decipher his moods. “Do you know where I can find Carson Smith?”

“Why?”

“What is with you? I want to talk to him.”

“I don’t know where he is. You should stay away from him anyway.”

Katie reached her car and fumbled for the keys. “Thanks for the advice, but I really need to talk to him. Never mind. I’ll just call him.”

“Wait! Don’t call him. Where are you?”

“At the hospital.”

A brief moment of silence followed. No doubt Doug didn’t like hearing that, picturing her at Ryan’s bedside.

“Fine. I’ll go see Smith with you. Meet me at Starbucks, we’ll go together.”

Katie hung up slowly and got into her car. She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. Something was off with Doug. He didn’t sound like either his normal morose self or his stoned, slightly happier self. Something tugged at the edge of her memory. She’d seen him like this before, nervous and guilt-ridden. When was it?

The calculus test, in their junior year of high school. He’d cheated in order to avoid getting a D. No one had known, or even suspected, not even Katie. But he’d acted exactly like this for three weeks, jumpy and defensive. It had eaten at him so much that finally he’d turned himself in to the school principal. Doug had a lot of problems, but he couldn’t handle a guilty conscience.

Guilty conscience.

Good God, had Doug set the fire? It made sense, in a way. He might have done it to please her, since Carson Smith had been such a bust.

But how would Doug know about the varnish? And why, for God’s sake, would he set the fire when Ryan and Danielle were inside the building?

Her anger mounting, she pulled out of the parking lot and headed for downtown San Gabriel.

When she walked in, she spotted Doug at their favorite corner table. He slouched over a tall cup and picked at a chocolate chip scone. His cast looked filthy and raggedy, with bits of thread coming undone.

Doubt flooded her. Could Doug have set the fire with his arm in a cast? Then she steeled herself. This was an investigation. No letting Doug off the hook.

She sat down across from him and waited for him to meet her eyes. It took him a while, and then it lasted only a microsecond. Exactly how he’d acted after that chemistry test.

“Doug. What the fuck?”

“What?”

“You set that fire.”

“Are you crazy?” He looked around the café and lowered his voice. “Are you trying to get me in trouble?”

“I’m trying to find out what happened.”

“Well, I’m sorry about the bar. The rumor going around is that your bartender set it. Trying to be all heroic.” He ended with a sneer.

“You know that’s ridiculous.”

“Makes sense to me.” He broke off a bit of scone and popped it into his mouth. Katie thought of Ryan lying in a hospital bed hooked up to a ventilator, and wanted to wipe the smug look off Doug’s face.

“Look, Doug, I know you don’t like Ryan. But accusing him of something he didn’t do is unforgivable.”

He ducked his head sullenly. A strand of black, wavy hair stuck to his cheek. At his best, Doug had the look of a dark fallen angel. In high school she’d thought of him as a beautiful, damaged boy. She’d wanted to heal him, keep him from hurting himself. And yet—it had never worked. He’d still done every brain-dead thing most teenagers did. Drugs, pot, cigarettes, blackout drinking. The only thing he hadn’t done was sleep around. He’d always been loyal to her.

“What is it with you and that dude?” he asked suddenly. “You really like him?”

Katie wished she’d gotten a drink to hide behind. Taking a gulp of latte might give her a moment to figure out how to handle that question. Might as well go for the truth. “It’s more than that. I love him.”

“ ’Cause he’s good-looking.”

“No. It’s not that. I’m sorry, Doug. But that’s the way it is.”

“What about him?” His lip curled. “He’s got girls all over him.”

“I think he likes me. But you’d have to ask him, and right now . . . Oh my God, Doug.”

He started. “What?”

“Did you . . . Were you trying to . . . kill Ryan?”

“No! Jesus, Katie. I already said I didn’t do it.”

“Well, I don’t believe you.”

“Fuck. You’re so sure your pretty boy is so perfect? It’s like everyone’s saying. He started it to be the big hero. Those guys are like that. I looked it up on the Internet. Firemen are addicted to adrenaline. They like the rush of being the hotshot. That’s how they get their kicks. I can’t believe you fell for someone like that. It’s not like you need a lot of brains to put out fires.”

Katie sat back in her seat and bit her lip to keep from screaming at him. Had he always been this petty?

“Did you know firemen never wear wedding rings? I got that off the Internet too. They say it’s because the metal would burn their fingers, but that’s not the real reason. It’s because they cheat. Everyone knows it.”

“Stop it, Doug!”

But he didn’t stop. Katie had the childish urge to stick her fingers in her ears and chant “la-la-la” until he’d finished. But it was high time she made herself see Doug, the real, grown-up Doug, for who he was. So she shut her mouth tight and listened to him rant.

“They have girls after them all the time, like basketball players. You really think Ryan would stick by you like I did? Get real, Katie. I mean, you’re cute, but you’re no Logan Marquez. He went home with her, you know. She told me so.”

She crossed her arms and let his poisonous words flow around her.

“He’s going to dump you in a hurry as soon as the next gorgeous girl comes along. You’ve seen the girls hanging on him. You think you can compete with that?”

“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“Come on, Gidget, I’ve always been there for you. When are you going to wake up and see this Ryan dude is no good for you?”

She stared at him, light dawning. “That fire was you, trying to wake me up? Make me think Ryan’s an arsonist burning down the bar so my family loses everything, even the insurance money?”

“No.” Doug jerked his head up, his eyes scuttling from side to side. “The fire happened before the insurance policy ran out.”

A shiver of shock bolted Katie to her chair. She’d suspected, she’d accused, but to hear him virtually admit it . . . “So you planned it for yesterday on purpose. So the insurance would still cover us.”

“No!” Doug crumbled bits of scone between his fingers, littering the table in front of him. “I didn’t say that. You’re twisting everything around. I’m just saying it’s better than after the insurance runs out, right?”

“What’s the difference? Like Carson Smith said, if they can make a good faith allegation that he set the fire, and did it on our behalf, the insurance company won’t pay. There’s all these suspicious-looking things they can twist around. Even if you tell the truth, they probably won’t pay because of our relationship.”

His mouth opened and closed. He looked like a fish flopping on a beach. “I . . . uh . . . I’ll be right back.” He slid back his chair and slouched toward the bathroom. Katie shook her head in disbelief. Typical Doug, off for a quick hit so he could finish the conversation. When things get tough, get stoned. That was his motto.

She shuddered. Thank God she’d never been tempted to join him in his pot habit. In fact, he’d been the biggest factor in her decision not to. He was a walking advertisement against weed. How many of his boneheaded decisions had been made under the influence? Had this one?

The thought of him getting high, then endangering the lives of two people, one of them a child, made her want to rip his head off.

He plopped back onto his chair, red-eyed but much more relaxed.

“Feel better?” she asked, with a mirthless smile.

“Yeah, dude. Things were getting a little intense there.” He rubbed a hand across his eyes and shook back his hair, degenerate rock star–style.

Katie didn’t want to spend one more minute in his company. But she still had a mission to complete. “Doug, this is how I see it.” She put both elbows on the table and fixed him with her best stern-but-fair look. “You’ve completely screwed up, in so many ways I don’t even know where to start. You nearly killed two people. You ruined my father’s business and now he probably won’t even get the insurance money. And an innocent, non-fire-starting person is about to take the blame for what you did. If you think I would ever get back together with someone who did those things, you’re more stupid than I ever imagined. There’s only one thing you can do to make up for all this.”

Doug squinted at her. He scratched at the edge of his cast.

“You can step up and admit what you did. We still probably won’t get the insurance money. But at least Ryan won’t be charged.”

“But . . .” He scratched his chin. “Then they’d charge me.”

“For what you did.”

“I never said that. You’re trying to confuse me.”

Katie slammed her hands on the table and stood up. “Man up, Doug. Whatever you did, tell the truth. That’s all I ask.”

“Way, way, way, wait a second.” He shot her a blurry smile. “Got an idea. If I say I did it, will you get rid of Ryan? That’s all I want. He can . . .” He flicked the fingers of his good hand. “Go away. Somewhere else.”

White rage flashed through her. “You. Are.
Pathetic.
I’m sick of you trying to control me. I’m not falling for your crap anymore. I can’t believe I fell for it this long. We’re done. Forever. I thought we could be friends, but I was so, so wrong. Never talk to me again. Ever.”

“But Katie . . .” he whined, the reality of the situation apparently penetrating his marijuana haze.

“
Ever
.”

She swung away from him and stalked out of the coffeehouse, barely conscious of the curious looks from behind laptops and coffee cups.

She yanked open the door of her Datsun, sat down in the driver’s seat, trembling, and slammed the door shut. Energy still surged through her. It had taken eight plus years to finally tell Doug where he could stick it. Why had it taken her so long to see him for what he was? She grabbed the steering wheel and took deep breaths, trying to get a grip on her emotions. Doug, Ryan, the bar, her family . . . everything swirled around her in a confused mess.

In the middle of it all, one thought surfaced. Yes, she’d finally told Doug off. But now, the chances of his confessing to his crime were zero.

W
hen Katie got back to the hospital, Melissa stood at his bedside, holding Danielle by the hand. Ryan looked as unconscious as ever. Melissa had stopped by a few times, but she hadn’t brought Dani until now.

“They stopped the phenobarbital a few hours ago,” Melissa told her.

“But he’s not awake yet,” she said, stating the obvious. She felt silly as soon as she said it.

“Not yet. Should be soon. Danielle wants to be here when he comes out of it. They finally allowed her to come.”

Danielle looked up at Katie. Her eyes looked huge in her little face.

“How are you doing, kiddo?” Katie asked her, bending down to her level. As someone who knew how it felt to always be looking up at everyone, she liked to get eye-to-eye with kids.

“We jumped out the window.”

“I know. You sure were brave.”

“It didn’t feel like flying. It felt like, flop. Boom.” The little girl mimicked a diving motion with her hand.

“Not fun at all, huh?”

She shook her head solemnly. “Is he going to wake up soon?”

“Well, the doctor said it takes between four and six hours. Maybe if you talk to him a little, he’ll wake up even sooner.”

Her dark eyes lit up. “I can tell him about my new bunny rabbit.”